


Garden

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Tapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10037099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: Tyler wants to know what they look like in bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stalksoftly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalksoftly/gifts).



> translation into русский available: [Сад](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5436459) by [RunTheConverse](https://ficbook.net/authors/288286)
> 
> -
> 
> christiana, christiana, christiana
> 
> ! :-) <3

"Wanna watch some porn?"

Tyler's sucking on his thumb, cheeks hollowed out as he slurps rather noisily. Josh watches, his hand stuck in the Doritos bag, fingertips skimming along folded-over chips Tyler tossed back inside because he didn't like them. Sluggish, Josh tilts his head back onto a pillow and goes, "What?"

"You heard me," Tyler says around his thumb. He slowly pops his lips off, his tongue catching the nacho cheese dust from his lips. The bed frame groans as he grabs his phone from the nightstand.

"Are we already at that point in our relationship?" Josh pops a chip into his mouth, folded over. "Need to spice things up?"

"Shut up, dude," Tyler says, returning to Josh's side. Swiping his thumb across the screen leaves a saliva-and-grease stain behind, which Tyler doesn't seem to mind. He's typing, depositing more thumbprints on the thin screen protector.

Josh continues to watch Tyler. Despite how dim the light of his phone, Josh pinpoints three new pimples, one of which is bleeding. Skin and scab and pus resides under Tyler's fingernail.

Josh eats another chip. "Why?"

Tyler shrugs. He wipes his screen on the leg of his boxer briefs, striped, matching with the blue of his t-shirt. "Thought it could be fun."

"You want me to jerk you off, too? Touch you like the people on camera?"

"No." Tyler turns, resting on his hip and setting his head on Josh's shoulder. "Need earbuds?"

"Maybe. Don't want anybody hearing."

"It's two in the morning."

"We have practice tomorrow."

Tyler shushes him, a low _shhhhhh_ , thumb dancing through the selection of videos. Scroll, scroll, scroll, Josh shoves two more chips into his mouth. He says nothing. Tyler picks at his face.

"Never watched porn before?" He's found a video and is hovering his thumb above the quality option, tittering on higher quality and slower load time or lower quality and faster load time. He ultimately chooses the former and lets his phone rest on his thigh to load.

"Everybody's watched porn. Whether it's with consent is the real question." Josh rolls the bag closed, clipping on a clothespin to seal it before dropping the bag on the floor, out of reach, out of mind. His stomach is full. He's warm, and Tyler's scooting closer to him to fill the gap. Josh wraps an arm around Tyler's shoulders, rubbing in circles. "I see a vagina."

Tyler hums, picking up his phone and pressing the play button. An oil spot stays behind, not that bothersome, until Tyler switches his phone to a horizontal viewpoint and the stain gets in the way of some guy's happy trail. Josh is the one to wipe it away this time. Tyler scratches his cheek on Josh's shoulder.

It's an amateur video, more focused on closeups than anything. Josh leans his head against Tyler's, eyes downcast on Tyler's phone. The guy's dick is unwrapped, the girl's legs spread impossibly wide while she whines and gets fucked. Her vulva is pink with razor burn, and her clit is swelled, begging for fingers, a tongue. A release comes in the form of her partner pulling out his dick and rubbing the length of his shaft over her clit. She twitches, convulses, and whines some more.

Tyler exits out of the video and finds another, by a lesbian couple this time.

"Dude," Josh says, "I feel super misogynistic right now."

"They're _amateurs_ ," Tyler reminds him, and clicks the play button. "Not some male fantasy."

"Whatever."

There's more body hair this time around, thick curls that could even rival the hair on Josh's head. More closeups, but kissing is a heavy feature. The two girls are kissing, licking, spit connecting them, and Josh doesn't know why that stirs something in his gut. Maybe it's the chapped lips that remind him of Tyler. Maybe it's the moaning, the sighing. He tries to gauge Tyler's reaction, but Tyler's gaze is on his phone, still chewing on his thumbnail. He jumps when a girl yelps at fingers entering the situation. Josh swears he can hear Tyler's heart pounding. "You okay?"

"She sounded like she was in pain."

"You make some pretty questionable sounds in bed, too."

" _Shut up_. No, I don't."

Josh listens to the girl's cunt take two fingers. "Tyler, you get all high and breathy. Very distressed."

"Shut _up_." His finger hovers above the screen, ready to exit, but Josh stops him.

"Wanna see someone get eaten out."

Instead of waiting, Tyler fast forwards through the video, stopping once they both see tongue-against-clit action. "Aha!" Tyler says once he finds it, and passes his phone to Josh to hold as he gets out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Josh asks, staring at trimmed nails stroking down the sides of labia and full lips closing around a swollen clit.

"Hungry," Tyler says. "Might get some chocolate."

Josh puts down the phone.

Tyler's walking around the bed, simultaneously wiping his nose and picking out a wedgie on his way from the room. Josh doesn't have interest in the video anymore. He closes out of it and decides going through Tyler's phone would be more fun.

Two Hershey's chocolate bars and three Reese's cups in toll, Tyler enters the room and says, "I wanna see a twink suck his daddy's dick now." It's as he's shutting the door with his foot that he realizes there's only silence coming through his phone's speakers. He doesn't seem too disturbed, just pulls back the wrapper on a chocolate bar and sticks it in his mouth with no regards to the pre-cut slices.

Josh takes a Reese's cup.

Tyler says, "I hope you're not looking through my photos," in such a deadpan tone that begs for Josh to look through his photos. He responds with nothing verbal. Tyler smirks at the _tap-tap-tap_ on his screen, navigating to the—most likely, cursed—images. Tyler finishes a chocolate bar and rips into the next one, mindful of the pieces he pops into his mouth this time.

The nudes are located in a separate album entitled "new music" with the cover photo being a picture of a forest. Despite the name being something an adoring fan might click onto, it's also meant to stop whoever sees it in their tracks. Said adoring fan would be eaten with anxiety at this choice, but ultimately they would decide to wait. It'll be better if they waited. Same goes with family and close friends. But Josh? Josh _knows_ Tyler.

"Very…" Josh frowns, searching for the right word.

"High contrast," Tyler mumbles around chocolate.

"Yeah, that."

The first of many pictures is Tyler's thighs, clad in a pair of dark boxer briefs as he lies on his side in bed—a tease. The next one he's naked, but the camera is tilted further back from his thighs, more focused on his arching back and the curve of his ass.

Josh says, "You've sent me this one before."

"Did I?"

"I was out shopping with Nick."

Almost all the photos are in black and white, some harsher than others. The light is softer when it comes to photos of semen on Tyler's stomach, fingers, or on his lips like an au naturel form of lipstick.

"You never sent me this," Josh says, lingering on the photo of half of Tyler's face, lips parted, his own semen coating his mouth and dripping down his chin.

"I didn't?" Tyler leans over, stares at the picture. "Oh, yeah, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"You were with your parents that day."

Josh can see the window in the background, daylight streaming in. "Getting off in the middle of the day? What kind of—?"

"Slut?"

Josh smiles. "I was gonna say 'stamina'."

Tyler blushes. "Oh."

Josh swipes to the next picture, and then onward to the next one. "My nudes are… pathetic compared to yours," he remarks, stopping on a photo of Tyler's legs to his chest, hands spreading apart his ass cheeks. A timer would be needed to take this picture.

"Don't say that." Tyler breaks off a piece of chocolate. "I like the ones of you holding onto your dick and asking me if I want it."

"I haven't even seen your dick yet," Josh says, continuing to swipe through the photos, getting more and more uncomfortable with his current situation. He shifts around, Tyler smirking again. "Wait, here's your dick." Josh blinks.

Tyler's still smirking. "Yeah?"

"Um."

"Yeah."

"Are those rose petals?"

"Yes."

"How romantic."

"Made my body a garden," Tyler whispers, shoving a chocolate bar into his mouth.

"I hope that means you didn't stick a vine somewhere."

Tyler is quiet, for comedic effect, and Josh rolls his eyes. "Love you so much, man." He continues scrolling, swiping, and pauses on a video. The still is dark, nothing to see here, but Josh's mind wanders all the same. "Do I want to watch this?"

"Totally." Tyler dumps the chocolate wrappers on the nightstand.

Josh clicks play. Seconds tick by. The screen's fuzzy, like it's pressed to the covers, face down. Josh can't see anything, but he can hear the unmistakeable groans of Tyler masturbating.

Tyler's blushing again.

Josh turns up the volume.

"Don't," Tyler says.

Josh turns it up more. Josh can hear sighing and the wet slick of fingers sliding into a loose hole. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Tyler's mumbling on video. He squeals, the telltale sounds of him fucking himself getting louder, faster.

Tyler slowly licks his lips.

Josh raises his eyebrow.

"S-shit," Tyler whines, high, breathing heavily. "F- _uh_ , Josh."

Tyler covers his face with his hands.

Josh raises both eyebrows.

In the video, Tyler gasps when he comes. And then, a beat of silence, and Tyler goes, "Crap, it got everywhere." The video ends.

Tyler's as red as a flame.

Josh goes to the next picture. It's a snapshot of Tyler's stomach, his chest, and the blankets next to him. Josh whistles. "You literally exploded."

"I hate you."

"Didn't have to record it."

"Wanted to know what I sounded like."

Josh gets to the end of the album, the last photo being a closeup of the head of Tyler's cock, fist tight around it, squeezing pre-come from the slit. "And?"

"Thought I sounded pretty hot."

"Yeah, you are."

Tyler passes Josh the last Reese's cup, and Josh passes Tyler the phone. Josh tears apart the wrapper, and Tyler cautiously asks, "Do you really mean that?" He's lying down, setting his head upon the pillows and closing his eyes. It's not a blink. He doesn't open his eyes again.

Josh looks at his Reese's cup. "Of course I do."

Eyes closed, lips parting, Tyler says, hushed, "Want to know what we look like."

Josh leans over Tyler, his chest to Tyler's chest, and drops the candy wrapper on the nightstand, with the others. They're taking the place of Tyler's phone. Tyler's phone is on the bed, screen dim, tittering between seventy and sixty percent battery life.

"Want to know what we look like," Tyler repeats, an arm hooking around the back of Josh's neck. He knows Josh heard. He knows Josh likes listening to him talk, sing, scream, sigh, sigh, sigh. Tyler's running his fingertips up Josh's neck, into his hair, and he grabs, tugs on the curls, and welcomes the pressure of Josh swinging his leg around so he can sit on Tyler's hips. The material of Josh's boxer briefs feels too thin as the heat of Tyler's groin connects and combines with his own.

"Slut," Josh says, and Tyler fucking giggles.

"You know me so well."

Josh chomps his teeth in front of Tyler's face, grazing the tip of his nose. "I still don't like calling you that."

Tyler's laughing again, eyes crinkling at the edges, a dimple in his cheek. "You _love_ me."

"What gave you that idea?" Josh fumbles for Tyler's phone, a hand skimming along the bed sheets while the other traces shapes into the skin above Tyler's waistband.

"Had a hunch."

"I'm using you for the fame and fortune."

" _What_ fame and fortune?" Tyler runs all fingers into Josh's hair, scratching at his scalp and getting two or three fingers caught in the curls. "Get back to me when we win a Grammy."

Josh grabs Tyler's phone and taps until he's on the camera app. With a swipe of his thumb, he switches to video and makes sure the front-facing camera is on. "Can't switch between the two views," Josh says, "but you just wanted a video of us kissing, right?" Josh is teasing.

Tyler is pouting. "You know damn well—"

Josh hums loudly, trying to drown out Tyler's predictable insistence. He's humming, and Tyler's groaning—playful, of course. A big smile cracks his face, his lips spreading in two as he laughs after Josh presses the record button. Tyler's laughing so hard no sound comes out, and he's forced to cover his red face with his hands. His shoulders shake, and Josh has no choice but to laugh with him. Josh hides his face in Tyler's neck.

"Dude, we're supposed to be making out."

"I'm just—so—fucking— _happy_."

Josh tugs at a pillow, propping Tyler's phone with it, making sure it's aimed at them before he turns his focus onto Tyler, continuing to laugh and silently quake.

"You make me happy, too," Josh says, low enough for only Tyler's ears, and pecks the backs of Tyler's hands.

Tyler pops out of his shell, then, moving his hands to rest on Josh's shoulders. His palms are warm, a delicate cradle, and his eyes are expectant, a little wet around the edges. "Kiss me," he mouths, and Josh does.

Slow, another peck, Josh leans into a second kiss with a part in his lips and a hand on Tyler's hip. Tyler's own hands are on his neck, still warm, still delicate. He kisses Josh with building fervor. Heat fills Josh, a comfortable furnace. Tyler begins to laugh again, silent giggles. "Gosh," he sighs, and wraps his lips around Josh's bottom lip. He sucks, trembling from more laughter.

"I like it when you laugh," Josh says, lips free now as he peppers kisses down Tyler's neck. He nips at Tyler's collarbone.

Tyler reaches out, shutting off the video and pulling the phone closer to them. "Watch with me," Tyler says, so Josh rests his head on Tyler's chest and watches.

Josh smiles throughout the watch. Against his stomach, Tyler's dick twitches.

"Whoa," Josh says.

"I think we need to turn on a lamp to see better," Tyler says. "The TV can only do so much."

On the set behind Josh is an infomercial about a lint roller for animal hair. Josh pushes himself to his knees, getting off Tyler to turn on the lamp. "Are we really doing this?"

Tyler finds the TV remote and presses the mute button. "Yes."

"Do you want the whole thing?" Josh sits next to Tyler. "Like, do you want to record us taking off our clothes and—"

Tyler's already aiming the phone at Josh, the camera rolling. "Take off your shirt, babe."

Josh rolls his eyes. He's smiling. Tyler's blushing behind his phone.

Josh takes off his shirt.

"So fucking hot," Tyler says.

Josh pauses, thumbs tucked into his boxer briefs. "Don't talk like that."

"Like what?"

"This video's for us. You don't gotta put on a show. Just act like yourself."

"Okay." Tyler taps his fingertip against the side of his phone. "I forgot how to act like myself."

"Tyler—"

"You just catch me off guard. I don't know how to function when you're in my presence. You're so special, Josh. You mean the world to me."

Josh chucks off the rest of his clothes. "Thought this was supposed to be a sex tape."

"Sex tape or not, I wanted you to know that."

Josh takes the phone from Tyler and aims it at him. "You're gonna make me bust a nut. Take off your clothes."

Something changes in Tyler's attitude. Once shy and flustered, Tyler's now confident and unwavering. Raising onto his knees, Tyler gives a slow side-to-side shake of his hips as he undresses. He's an enchantress, a fucking alien, and he's crawling across the bed, toward Josh, and Josh is leaning back, an elbow his savior.

"Whoa," Josh says, again, too prolific for his own good.

Josh's hand is steady when it comes to capturing Tyler dropping to his stomach and pressing his nose into the dark thicket of pubic hair. It's difficult to decide whether to watch Tyler through the phone screen or around the phone screen. Josh ultimately thinks making the video's composition hot as fuck is more important right now.

Tyler inhales, breathes, and sticks out his tongue, running it up, up, up Josh's shaft. His lips are pink and a little chapped, and his eyes are hooded, dark, and Josh quickly takes a photo before the moment is over. Tyler doesn't hear; the phone doesn't make a sound when a picture is taken of the video screen. Tyler will discover it later. Maybe he'll send it to Josh some time. Josh sighs. Tyler smiles, ducking his head back to the base of Josh's cock. He's hiding, teasing, a fucking flirt. He knows how to make a good film.

But this isn't just for the camera. Tyler's acting like himself. Josh loves him.

Tyler closes his mouth around one of Josh's testicles, quietly sucking with shut eyes. Josh moves the phone closer, making sure to get Tyler pulling away with spit on his lips, licking his lips, taking the other testicle between his lips.

"That feels good," Josh says. Tyler opens his eyes, a little surprised. He blinks and moves his mouth up to Josh's dick, lips parted and skimming along the length. Josh pulls the phone back, getting Tyler connecting his eyes with the camera before taking the tip of Josh's cock into his mouth.

He's slow, steady. Tyler was never one to take it down his throat, no matter how much he liked sucking dick. More kissing, more lapping, more _spitting_ , Tyler's skills when it comes to this isn't one found in porn. He's careful. He's nice. He's generous.

Tyler holds Josh's dick with a loose fist, there to keep him in place for when he slowly shakes his head, left and right, rubbing the glans of Josh's cock against his lips. Josh's hips twitch, the phone moving slightly in his hand. "Shit," he curses, falling onto his back. "Painting yourself up for me?"

Tyler fucking winks. Pre-come spread across his lips, Tyler gathers it all in his mouth and returns it to Josh's cockhead. It spills from his mouth, travels down his chin, and covers his fist.

Josh actually whines.

Tyler says, "You like that?"

Josh says, "Yeah."

Tyler licks up the mess and raises onto hands and knees. He crawls, and Josh pulls the phone to the side. He tries his best to aim it at them, to capture the moment Tyler looms over Josh and allows the collection to drip into Josh's waiting mouth.

Tyler says, "You like that?"

Josh says, "Yeah."

Tyler says, "I liked that, too," and travels down Josh's body, biting into a pectoral.

"Fuck." Josh turns the camera back to Tyler, his nose nearly touching the screen in order to get Tyler's treatment of his chest on film. Tyler doesn't spend a lot of time there; he's crawling, scooting backwards, until he's sitting on his legs, hands on his thighs. A little lost, Tyler's eyes are fixated on Josh's knee.

"Are you okay?" Josh asks.

"Feel like I'm gonna embarrass myself in a minute." Tyler looks at Josh—not at the camera, at Josh.

"How?"

Tyler ignores answering the question directly. "Want me on all fours? Want me with my ass in the air? Want me spreading myself open for you?"

"Fuck you, Tyler." Josh sits up, Tyler meeting him halfway. When they kiss, it's messy, uncoordinated. It's not on film, the phone resting on Josh's thigh so he can touch Tyler's face and hold him close.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Tyler asks, and Josh nods, over and over, and says, "Yes, yes, _yes_."

As Tyler swallows his anxiety, Josh finds the lube under the bed, tossed under there after their last escapade. Josh had stayed the night under the guise of helping Tyler write new music, but instead they spent the majority of the night edging each other with their fingers.

Josh doesn't think edging Tyler would be very fair tonight.

Josh has the lube and the phone, giving the screen a quick glance. "I hope you have a lot of free storage space." He sets the bottle aside, using two hands to guide the phone down the length of Tyler's body. Tyler's casually resting on his stomach, a leg bent up and ready to raise him if needed. From this angle, the hair on Tyler's thighs is almost indistinguishable from the hair between his thighs, protecting soft skin, skin that deserves to be touched, to be kissed.

"I have storage space," Tyler says, picking at a spot on his forehead. He digs out the scab under his forefinger with his teeth. "Want me to—?"

"No, lemme…" Josh feels akin to a predator when he gropes Tyler's ass. Must be the camera, he reasons, because he's loved on Tyler's bottom before this, with both hands and more. The camera implies visual consumption. And it _is_ for visual consumption, Josh needs to remember that. "You wanna know what you look like?"

Tyler nods. Quietly, he says, "Yes."

Phone in one hand, Tyler's ass cheek in the other, Josh spreads Tyler open, easy to do with Tyler's leg raised as it is. "You know what you look like down here," Josh says. "I've seen the pictures."

"Don't know what it looks like to have— _oh_."

Josh leans forward, letting a long string of drool land on Tyler's hole. Tyler's gasping, convulsing. Josh rubs in the spit with his thumb, slow circles.

"Haven't seen yourself do this," Josh says, slowly sinking the tip of his thumb inside. "Or this. Only heard yourself do this."

"Yeah." Tyler rests his chin on an arm.

Josh sets down the phone in order to drizzle lube over his fingers. He picks it back up.

Tyler asks if the light's okay on the camera.

Josh tells him it's perfect. He says, "Like, uh, could you, maybe—?"

Tyler reaches behind him, taking Josh's hand's previous position. He holds himself open, his other hand between his legs. Josh watches Tyler grab his testicles, hold them, and Josh watches Tyler breathe. It's beautiful.

"Thank you," Josh says, and doesn't feel shameful for saying so. He rolls the pads of his fingers over Tyler's hole, feeling it pulse, feeling it open. Tyler wants him inside; he's groaning, pleading.

"Please, Josh."

Josh slowly presses in two fingers. Tyler's relaxing, relaxed. He wants this, he needs this, he needs all of this. "There we go."

"Don't need a lot," Tyler mumbles.

"I can tell." Josh twists his wrist, palm face up. He slides out his fingers, slides them in, out, in, out. "So fucking loose for me already." Josh outlines the rim of Tyler's hole. "Can't wait for you to see this."

"Put your dick in me."

"Are you ready for that?" Josh's fingers slip in, curl. He hopes the phone can pick up the sound of too-much lube.

"Yeah, c'mon." Tyler raises his hips, his ass, his knees supporting him, his cheek pressing to the bed sheets. "Put it in me." He wiggles his hips.

Josh smacks Tyler's ass.

Tyler yelps.

Josh smacks Tyler again.

Tyler grunts.

And Josh smacks Tyler's ass again.

Tyler falls onto his side.

Josh says, "Did you like that?"

" _Yes_."

"Hand me something to wipe off my fingers."

Tyler rolls onto his stomach, his ass a shade of crimson. "Here." He yanks the case off a pillow and passes it to Josh. Josh exchanges it with Tyler's phone. "My turn?" Tyler turns to his side once more, a better angle to get Josh on the video. "Touch yourself for me."

Josh blows a raspberry.

Tyler blows one, too.

Josh tosses the pillowcase to the foot of the bed. Depending on the amount expelled, they might use it for clean up later. "Only gonna touch myself to lube up my dick."

"That's honestly… I think my erection just flagged."

Josh laughs. He sits, criss-cross applesauce, and runs his hand over his cock, slick with lube. "Love you a lot. So, do you want to ride me?"

"I guess."

Josh takes the phone and switches positions with Tyler, laying his head on a pillow as Tyler gets on top of him. Tyler's facing the camera. His chest is broken out, his neck, the tips of his ears. Pink and red all over, Tyler's aroused, interested, and he rocks on Josh's dick, the lube making it easy for him to slip and slide. "Dude," he says, "is this a good angle? Is this flattering?"

"For you or for me?"

Tyler's hot. He shrugs a shoulder. "Me. Am I…?" He looks down, at his stomach, and Josh looks at it, too, at the rolls, and Josh shakes his head.

"Tyler, you're fine. Besides, I like watching you jiggle when I fuck you."

Tyler makes an ungodly noise. Josh is frightened briefly, but then realizes Tyler's growling or snarling or… _whatever_ was meant to be taken in a good way. Tyler's… fine. Tyler's fine.

Tyler sinks down on Josh's cock, wet, hot, heat. He presses his hands to Josh's chest, bracing himself. His hips snap down as he bounces. It sounds amazing. Tyler's head is tilted back, eyes shut, and he grinds, slow and calculated.

"Yeah, just like that, baby boy. Fuck yourself on my dick."

"Fucking— _shit_." Tyler tumbles onto his side, hand clutching the base of his cock. "Don't talk like that."

"Just being myself."

" _Yeah_. I'd like to last a little longer than three minutes."

Josh checks the time. "This video's almost twenty minutes."

"No shit?"

"No shit. Look."

Tyler looks, army-crawling his way to lying next to Josh. "Well, shit."

"Get on my dick. Wanna see you bounce."

Tyler presses a quick kiss to Josh's cheek before he's straddling Josh's hips, shaking his own hips for the camera. This time, Josh is the one to make an ungodly noise. Tyler laughs, wiggling his hips again as he hovers above Josh's cock, his back to the camera, facing Josh's legs. "Put it in me," Tyler says, looking over his shoulder.

Josh rubs his dick over Tyler's hole, matting pre-come and lube in the hair there. Slowly, he raises his hips and inches into Tyler. He groans, Tyler gasps, and Tyler gains control. He sits on his knees, his shins, and begins rocking again, bouncing again, and Josh watches through the phone screen. He helps Tyler fill himself up whenever his dick slips out, and he does this carefully. Tyler's being tortured. By now, Josh would have tossed him onto his stomach, told him to hug a pillow, and fucked him into the mattress. But Tyler's being tortured. He wants to see himself, wants to see how they look on film.

Josh says, "Hey, are you close?"

Tyler doesn't move, Josh completely inside him. "Maybe."

"Lemme put the phone somewhere. Wanna hold your hand."

Tyler whines.

Josh copies the sound.

Tyler laughs.

Josh copies that, too.

With no grace at all, Tyler gets on his hands and knees, Josh's dick sliding out of him, and spins, his hands on each side of Josh's torso. Tyler's too close to the camera; the screen focuses on his collarbone. "You can hold my hand anytime you want, dude." Tyler raises a hand, fingers splayed out.

Instead of holding Tyler's hand, like he's certainly expecting, Josh delivers a rather proficient high-five.

They're laughing again.

Josh drops the phone and rolls them over. No space between them, Josh runs his fingers up Tyler's arms, goosebumps. "Nice," he says, and Tyler repeats it, spreading his legs and carding his own fingers up Josh's arms and into his hair. When they kiss, it's done with no finesse. They're smiling, though, lost in their world just for two, not even caring the phone is currently recording the ceiling fan going in clockwise circles, shaking, shaking.

Tyler can't stop kissing Josh. Josh can't stop kissing Tyler. "You taste like dick and chocolate," Josh says, and Tyler holds a stitch in his side as he giggles.

"Thank you." Tyler wipes an eye.

Josh takes the phone and props it along a pillow again, far enough away to get most of their bodies on screen. Tyler will appreciate it—Josh will, too. He's just as curious to see what they look like in bed.

Tyler's heels come off the bed. "Josh," he says, so simple and so complex.

"Tyler." Josh pushes into Tyler, immediately wrapping his arms through the space between Tyler and the bed sheets. Tyler curls his toes, and Josh curls his fingers. "I got you. I got you."

"Take me," Tyler whispers, closing his eyes, already wet, cheeks wet, face wet. "Take me, take me."

Mindful of the possibility of the phone tipping over, Josh fucks Tyler deep and gentle, the bed tentatively groaning with the movement of Josh's hips. Uncharacteristic of their usual late-night sex, Tyler seems like he wants this session to go on until the morning sun peeks through the blinds. He's hugging Josh with arms and legs and not even touching himself. He wants to get off with prostate stimulation only tonight, and he's doing just that.

Whispering into Josh's ear, Tyler clings, Tyler twitches, Tyler is on the edge.

"Wait, wait, hold it," Josh says, and pushes himself up, still balls deep in Tyler as he pulls the phone into their personal space. He directs it at Tyler, at his stomach, already a small pool of pre-come getting caught in his happy trail. "Bet you wanna see this."

Tyler holds onto the back of his thigh, fingers making indentions. "Yes, yes, yes—"

Josh wraps his fingers around Tyler's dick, heavy and hot in his hand. He thrusts his hips forward, his palm sliding up. His slides down when he pulls out, up when he pushes in, down, out, up, in.

"Gonna come."

Tyler's eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and his skin is a delicate shade of pink. The addition of semen makes it mystical, a mosaic of flesh and fur and fluids. Paired with Tyler's heavy breathing, his body stretched to show off his last set of ribs, Tyler is human. Suave, arms behind his head, relaxing, Tyler says, "C'mere and come on my face."

Josh does.

Tyler is a circus performer, white foundation on his face, rouge on his cheeks, blood on his lips. He's hungry. He's sated. He's looking at the camera with Josh's spunk on his chin and neck and going, "I can't believe we just did that."

Still recording, Josh leans forward and licks up the mess on Tyler's face, not stopping, ducking down to clean off Tyler's stomach, too. He sits up then, passing Tyler the camera, and Tyler holds it as Josh leans over Tyler and spits in his mouth. Thick and catching Tyler off guard, he chokes a little, and has to sit up to relearn how to breathe. During this time, Josh takes the phone and points it at Tyler. This is real. This is a great ending.

Sweat on his temples and touching his chest, Tyler goes, "Shit, man, trying to kill me." His eyes wander toward the TV. He smiles. "Josh, look, an old Billy Mays commercial."

The video stops there.

"Your phone's burning up."

Tyler shoves the charger into it, sticking it underneath the chocolate wrappers. "We'll check it out later." He continues sitting, hands in his lap, watching TV.

"I think you looked great."

A corner of Tyler's mouth quirks. "Thanks." It's soft. "Can I be the big spoon tonight?"

"Sure."

In the morning, with bedhead, a fresh pimple on his forehead, and a vague handprint on his ass cheek, Tyler presses his lips to the curve of Josh's ear and says, "Wanna watch some porn?"


End file.
